Top 10 Russian Tortures
by Chibichu of Russia
Summary: Have you ever wondered how Russia liked to torture people? Well, these are his top 10 favorite ways to do so!
1. Mask of Infamy

**Hello, there! I was searching the internet and came across a list of the most gruesome Russian torture devices, and you know how websites like that always give us Hetalia fans plot bunnies. I'm planning on doing a fic for each country and their own ways of torture, so I'll need some ideas on who to do next. But, for now, enjoy Russia torturing the other countries~!**

**The chapters will be generally short, since I just want to explain the torture and the reaction most people had. I'm going back from 10 to 1, 10 being the least painful and 1 being the most painful. **

**Enough with the long intro!**

Chapter 1

Number 10: The Mask of Infamy

Tortured: Alfred F. Jones

Torturer: Ivan Braginski

Death of victim?: Nyet.

Ivan rested his chin on the back of his hand, looking at the American that had been brought before him by a few soldiers. He was young, maybe in his early twenties, or perhaps even still a teenager. His head was lifted proudly, which annoyed Ivan a bit. He shouldn't seem so proud in front of him if he was an enemy.

"Why is he here?" Ivan asked the two soldiers. The first one spoke first.

"He has been insulting the other soldiers around the border. His name is Alfred." He said. Ivan sighed at the situation. Honestly, couldn't the Americans just shut up? They always bothered him in one way or another…

"And why would you do that?" Ivan finally asked the boy. He sneered.

"You stupid communist bastards have no idea what you're doing! All you do is run around and kill people! That is so un-heroic!" He exclaimed.

God, Ivan wasn't in the mood for this. He hadn't gotten much sleep the night before. He was grouchy.

He needed entertainment.

"Well, I normally do not like to punish foreigners too harshly, but you need to be punished and learn to keep your mouth shut." He said. Alfred glared at him with gritted teeth.

"What right do you have to order me punished?" He hissed. Ivan narrowed his eyes.

"You are in _my_ country, so you follow _my_ rules. Is that understood, boy?" Alfred flinched at the harshness of Ivan's voice, and Ivan turned to one of the soldiers, "Take him down to the cellar while I have the blacksmith make his mask." He ordered. The two soldiers nodded, beginning to pull the boy away from Ivan. His proud expression almost immediately turned into panic.

"Mask? What mask? What are you going to do?" The American demanded, struggling weakly. Ivan smirked.

"You need to learn to bite your tongue when you have something bad to say, Alfred."

And then he was gone.

-

A few days later, the mask had been completed. It was made of extremely heavy iron, two holes for the eyes, one for the nose, and one for the mouth. The American was brought back up to Ivan, his expression filled with panic as he saw the mask.

Ivan chuckled, "This is going to give you quite a headache." He said, taking the large helmet in his hands and walking towards Alfred. The guards had to hold him still as he shrieked and flailed.

"Don't put that on me! It'll crush my head in!" He yelped, his eyes wide in alarm.

Ivan rolled his eyes, "I made sure it is not deadly weight, American. It will not kill you unless you run into a wall, which I doubt you will be stupid enough to do." He paused, "Unless the eye holes are too small."

Before the boy could protest once again, Ivan had placed the mask over his face and secured the leather straps tightly around the back of his head. He pushed down the weights, and Alfred just began wailing in pain. Think of a migraine that didn't go away and was ten times worse than the one you probably had.

Ivan listened to the American's whines of pain for a while, smirking quite satisfyingly, before he began to grow bored and quite annoyed with it, but it of course it had taken a few hours for him to get to that stage. He turned to the soldiers, who looked pretty uncomfortable with having to watch and hear this.

"Put on the gag. This is getting annoying." Ivan ordered. The soldiers nodded, taking a piece of cloth with a large metal ball attached to it, and the wrapped it around the boy's head, securing the ball into his mouth, and I'll tell you right now, it was not meant to taste good. And God only knew how long it had been since the thing was actually cleaned.

Alfred's wails were well muffled, and Ivan decided to take his punishment to the extreme. He really needed the entertainment. He turned to the soldiers.

"Have little Alfred here serve a week of hard labor. He will keep the mask on for six of the seven days. He will only be allowed to take the gag off when eating, but the mask will still remain." He thought for a moment, before smirking, "Ah, and he may not have any food or water for the first three days."

The soldiers looked at each other before nodding, once again dragging Alfred off. Ivan made a mental note to observe him for the next few days. This was going to be fun.

**End chapter one.**

**Next torture: The Street Sweeper's Daughter**

**Tortured: Feliciano Vargas**

**Torturer: Ivan Braginski**

**Death of victim?: Depends on the torturer**


	2. The Street Sweeper's Daughter

**Chapter 2: Number 9: The Street Sweeper's Daughter**

**Torturer: Ivan Braginski**

**Tortured: Feliciano Vargas**

**Death?: Possibly**

Ivan scowled at the Italian that was brought before him, and that certain Italian looked like he was about to die from a panic attack. Poor boy. Oh, well. It's his own fault.

"Honestly, Feliciano, why would you be dumb enough to plant a bomb on my border?" Ivan demanded. Feliciano flinched.

"I-it was o-orders, I swear!" He exclaimed desperately. Ivan raised an eyebrow.

"And those orders were issued by...?" He asked. Feliciano gulped, shaking his head, not wanting to tell.

"Tell me, Feliciano." Ivan warned. Feliciano whimpered, shaking his head again, more quickly this time. Ivan sighed.

"I warned you. Bring him to the basement. Set up the 'Street Sweeper's Daughter'." Ivan ordered. The soldiers nodded, beginning to drag the Italian, and he went into full panic mode.

"The what? W-wait! Ack!" Feliciano exclaimed as he was forced onto his knees, his shins resting on what seemed to be like a metal plank. He was forced into a crouched position, looking like a little ball, his hands shoved at his sides and resting on his knees, his head facing the floor. Ivan followed down into the basement to the trembling Italian. He smirked.

"We will compress your body until you tell us who commanded you to plant the bomb." He took a seat in front of Feliciano, looking him dead in his pleading, wide open amber eyes. One solider picked up one side of the metal contraption, which had rounded sides, lifting up the two rods until they were pressed against Feliciano's sides. Ivan gave a wave of his hand.

"Compress him." He ordered. The two soldiers nodded, slowly pushing the two metal rods towards each other in the direction where they would eventually meet the middle, if Feliciano wasn't dead by then. Feliciano gave a grunt of pain as he was squeezed, and eventually the two rods met, and the soldiers locked them in place.

"This is your last chance, Feliciano. Tell me. NOW." He barked. Feliciano once again shook his head. Ivan grit his teeth.

"Press down. I want to see blood coming out of this whelp's body." He growled. The soldiers nodded, beginning to add weights onto the top of the torture device. Feliciano wailed, trying to shift himself to get himself out of the compressing, but it obviously wasn't working.

"Anything to say, Feliciano?" Ivan asked. He just got a wail in response, "Press harder." Ivan ordered. Feliciano's wails grew louder, his stomach and torso aching horribly from his organs being compressed so tightly together. Tears began to pour down his slightly tanned cheeks, making Ivan smirk.

"Have I broken you yet? Will you tell me now?" He asked. He didn't get a reply except for more moans of agony, so he pressed down harder with more weights. He saw crimson liquid beginning to leak out of Feliciano's nose, trailing down to his lips and eventually dribbling off of his chin onto the ground beneath him. He waited a bit longer, but Feliciano still didn't give him any information. He added more weights, and began to see the red liquid beginning to pour out of his ears. Finally, Feliciano couldn't take it anymore.

"L-LUDWIG! IT WAS LUDWIG! STOP, PLEASE!" He yelled, beginning to scream quite loudly.

"The German?" Ivan asked.

"YES!"

Ivan smirked, taking off the weights, releasing Feliciano from his compressed prison. Feliciano sprawled himself onto the ground, taking large pants to get much needed air.

"Thank you for your information, Feli~!" Ivan chuckled. Feliciano didn't respond, he just let out a small whimper. Ivan pulled out his pipe, "I am no longer in need of you." He said. Feliciano didn't even have time to widen his eyes in alarm before the pipe came crashing down onto his head, blood splattering in all directions of the room. The Italian immediately fell motionless. Ivan repeated the movement a few more times just to make sure he was dead. Then, smirking, he hummed a small tune to himself as he headed out of the basement, swinging his bloodied pipe next to him.

Now, where was Ludwig?

**Next torture: The Jerking**

**Torturer: Ivan Braginski**

**Tortured: Natalia 'Natasha' **Arlovskaya


	3. The Jerking

**Heh, forgot an author's note last time. I just barely managed to upload this today. A lot of things were going on, like my mom's birthday, and then my sister had a concert, and by the way, her singing is like a freaking Angel, and my friend was playing the violin LIEK A BAWS!**

**Ah, anyway, so, yeah. I seem to be uploading every other day, even though I'd prefer to upload every day. I'll try to upload again tomorrow instead of waiting an entire day.**

…

**I'm out of things to rant about. **

**I bet you're cheering.**

**BYYYEE!**

**Chapter 3**

**Number 8: The Jerking**

**Torturer: Ivan Braginski**

**Tortured: Natalia 'Natasha' Arlovskaya**

"NO! Big brother, please, listen to me, they were lying!" Natalia pleaded desperately on her knees to her brother. Ivan didn't look convinced at her pleads. The story was quite bizarre to what had happened. There had been a murder somewhere in Moscow, and everyone had begun to point fingers. A witness to the murder, whose name was Lovino Vargas, who just so happened to be Feliciano's brother, blamed it on Natalia, Ivan's own little sister. He had claimed that she was a witch, and that's why there had been no witnesses. At first, no one believed him. Then they recalled her psychotic personality and undying love for her own brother. They eventually agreed with him, and demanded that Natalia be tortured for witchcraft.

Ivan, of course, had no choice in the matter.

So here the two of them stood, the torture device already set up and ready to go.

"I am sorry, Natalia." Ivan said, his voice blank and almost monotone. He couldn't let the family bond between them get in the way of what his people wanted. He grabbed her by her shoulders, lifting her up off of the ground.

"Please stay still. Struggling will only make it worse." He said quietly, walking Natalia over to what almost looked like a hanging post. The rope that would go around your neck was instead tied to Natalia's hands, which her behind her back. Weights were added to her feet, and Ivan had her sit down on a small bench. Once he made sure everything was secure, he walked up to a small wheel. He slowly began to turn it, the rope pulling on Natalia's wrists. Natalia made a silent note to pay no attention to the pain she knew was sure to come, and bent forward to ease the stress on the rope. Eventually she could no longer bend forward, and her arms were as high as they were able to naturally stretch from behind her.

Now the real pain began.

Ivan paused for just a moment before he began to turn the wheel again. Natalia let out a groan of pain as he arms were bent back much farther than they were supposed to. Her groan turned into a loud cry as she felt a sickening pop in one of her shoulders, and the other one followed moments after. She could feel the muscle and bones tearing inside of her arms. Now she was starting to get lifted off of the bench, the only thing keeping her from collapsing onto the ground was her arms, which she couldn't even move now. Her cries and screams continued as the weights pulled down on her feet, causing even more weight to be stressed onto her arms. Tears of pain rolled down her cheeks, her choked sobs and screams echoing all throughout the large house.

Once she was dangling a few feet off of the ground, Ivan locked the rope in place, tugging on it a few times to make sure it wouldn't snap. He looked over to Natalia.

"I will come fetch you tomorrow." He said quietly, exiting the room, which left Natalia dangling in her agony with broken and destroyed arms for a whole 24 hours.

When Ivan returned for her the next day, as soon as she was untied and released from the torture device, she was beheaded in the middle of Moscow for all to see.

**Next: Water Torture**

**Tortured: Ludwig and Gilbert ****Beilschmidt**

**Torturer: Ivan Braginski**

**Death of victim?: Yes**


	4. Water Torture

**YESH! I have succeeded in a next day update! I'm so proud! I feel like such an ass, though. I'm so cruel to everyone's favorite characters. xD!**

**I swear to God, one day, I'm going to open my door and there'll be an angry mob of fan girls wanting to kill me. Ah, well. It's still fun!**

**Chapter 4**

**Water Torture**

**Tortured: Ludwig and Gilbert ****Beilschmidt**

**Torturer: Ivan Braginski**

**Death of victim?: Yes**

Ivan was quite pleased when he saw the German brothers brought before him. He had really only wanted Ludwig, but two toys to play with was definitely better than one.

"Where is Feliciano, Ivan?" Ludwig demanded first, glaring and struggling against the Russian soldiers.

Ivan put a finger on his chin, "Feliciano... Feliciano... Oh, you mean the Italian I captured?" He smiled innocently, tilting his head to the side.

"Yes! That is who I mean!" Ludwig exclaimed, clearly annoyed.

"I wouldn't be very concerned for him right now," Ivan waved it off with his hand; "I'd be much more concerned for you right how. You and your brother have been chosen for a very fun type of torture, you know~" He giggled, standing up from his seat, "Are you thirsty?" He asked.

Before the German brothers could respond, they were roughly grabbed and forced onto a wooden table. Their hands were forced above their heads, rope fastening them together. Their legs were tied down as well.

"Well, isn't this just fucking wonderful?" Gilbert asked, growling and struggling.

Ivan ignored him.

"Now, my little toys, there are two ways to do this torture. I think I've already decided which one to do for each of you." Ivan said with a grin, throwing a glance at Gilbert, who glared and started yelling all kinds of German profanities.

Yes, Ivan was definitely killing him first. He was getting annoying. He pulled a rag out of his pocket, grabbing Gilbert's lower jaw as he was in mid-speech of profanity. He gripped it tightly, causing Gilbert to wince, and opened his mouth as wide as it could go without breaking. Taking the rag, he shoved it deep into Gilbert's throat, causing him to begin choking and sputtering.

"STOP THAT! TAKE THAT OUT OF HIS MOUTH!" Ludwig barked, struggling against the bonds on his hands and feet.

God only knew what Ivan was going to do to his brother! Ivan only smirked, taking a vase of water and pouring it onto the cloth that had been stuffed down Gilbert's throat. Gilbert began gagging and choking, thrashing his head desperately from side to side to get the rag out of his mouth, but to no avail. The water made the cloth very heavy, and he could feel it sagging deeper into his throat. It was impossible to breathe; his airways had been completely clogged up.

He struggled for air, closing his eyes tightly before forcing them wide open again. He felt like screaming, but knew that that was probably a stupid idea. He could feel the water dripping into his lungs, which were painfully in need of air.

"GILBERT! BRUDER!" Ludwig cried desperately, hatred and fear mixed in his voice as he watched his own brother being choked to death.

With one last failed attempt for air, Gilbert fell completely motionless.

"NEIN! BRUDER! GILBERT! MEIN GOTT! YOU KILLED HIM! YOU SON OF A BITCH, YOU'VE KILLED HIM!" Ludwig screamed, his eyes glassy with tears that refused to fall as he glared at Ivan with pure loathing.

Ivan had been smiling the entire time.

"Do not worry, little Ludwig, you will be joining him soon." He smiled, now strolling over to the only remaining German brother.

He pried the pissed off man's mouth open, taking a funnel and shoving it none to gently into his throat. Ludwig gagged, but soon regained himself. Taking the vase of water from earlier, Ivan began pouring the water into the funnel. Ludwig gagged again, coughing and trying to spit the water out. Ivan pinched his nose, forcing him to drink the water.

Once Ivan was satisfied with the amount of water in his throat, he pulled the vase away and removed the funnel. Ludwig went into a coughing and gasping fit. What? Was that it? Why had he killed Gilbert and not him?

Ludwig spoke to soon. Ivan pulled out his pipe, smirking devilishly.

"I hope you've had your fill to drink, Luddy~" He cooed, raising the pipe over his head and crashing it down onto Ludwig's bloated stomach.

Ludwig's eyes widened, the extra water in his body being forced right back out of his mouth, mixed with plenty of blood. Ivan smirked, hitting him again. More water and more blood. Cracking his ribs. He continued the action until Ludwig couldn't scream or move any longer.

**Next torture: The Head Crusher**

**Tortured: Kiku Honda**

**Torturer: Ivan Braginski**

**Death of victim?: Yes**


	5. The Head Crusher

**Shoot. I had finished this chapter last night, but I had been working on MMD and RPing with my friends and got distracted so I forgot to upload it. Shoot me now.**

**So, I have math finals coming up. I am currently failing math. I am so screwed.**

**My grade would probably be higher if I actually did my homework instead of writing stories for you guys. XD**

**I should probably be studying as well. But studying isn't any fun. And I'm a lazy ass.**

**I need to stop ranting every time I make an author's note…**

**Chapter 5**

**The Head Crusher**

**Tortured: Kiku Honda**

**Torturer: Ivan Braginski**

**Death of victim?: Yes**

Ivan quickly paced back and forth in his home. He couldn't believe this! He thought he could handle Korea, and look at what happened! Japan came to the rescue! Damned Japanese!

Couldn't they just sit at home and watch anime all day? It was all they were good for, anyway!

Wait, wasn't he an anime character?

**((RUSSIA. STOP BREAKING THE FOURTH WALL.))**

**(Sorry~)**

**((DON'T BE SORRY, CONTINUE THIRD PERSON NARRATING!))**

This was becoming much more difficult for him to conquer the Koreas. Oh, well. He could worry about how he would handle the situation later. He needed to work on what to do with the little Japanese prisoner he had. He might be able to leak information from him, but the man was Japanese, for God's sake.

He probably committed seppuku by now. Well, he probably would have if he had his weapon. Ivan silently thanked his soldiers for getting rid of the katana he carried. Walking down the steps to the basement of his home, he came across the said Japanese man, handcuffed by his wrists to the wall. Ivan calmly strolled over to him, squatting down so he could be at face level with him, cupping his chin to make eye contact.

He tilted his head innocently to the side, "What is your name~?" He asked sweetly.

"Kiku Honda." The Japanese man answered calmly.

Ivan's smile stayed in place.

"So, you will give me some information about the Japanese battle plans, da?" Ivan asked sweetly.

Kiku only shook his head, "No."

"Even if I torture you for it?" Ivan asked, his smile fading, but he still had that innocent look.

"Even if you torture me for it, I will tell you nothing." Kiku said. This only made Ivan's innocent expression vanish completely.

"Then I will have to give you a very horrible torture and see if you change your mind." He said darkly.

Kiku didn't seem afraid, which just angered him more. He unchained his wrists, grabbing him roughly by the hair and dragging him towards a table. On that table was two small pillars attached by a metal rod that had a hole in the middle. Occupying that hole was what looked like a screw, with metal bands securing a thick, flat on the bottom rock that looked pretty freaking heavy. Ivan tied Kiku's wrists behind his back, sitting him into a chair at the table none too gently.

He forced Kiku's head down, his chin resting on the wood of the table while the top of his head rest right against the flat part of the rock, which Ivan had adjusted into that position, "This is your last chance, Kiku. I will show mercy if you tell me all you know about the Japanese military."

Kiku pulled off which almost seemed like a childish pout, "I do not fear pain nor death."

Ivan's palm met his forehead, "Damn Japanese and their strong will..." He muttered, "Very well then. Suit yourself." He said.

He began twisting the top of the screw, pushing the rock down on Kiku's head. Kiku shut his eyes tightly, a horrible migraine coming on from the pressure. He clenched his teeth together, gritting them together. He couldn't even open his mouth from the pressure on his head. A small whimper escaped his mouth as he felt his teeth cracking in his mouth.

The pain...it was almost unbearable. As his teeth and jaws shattered, his brown eyes widened, tears beginning to swim out as the bone and muscle that used to be called his mouth was now just a large trapped bowl of blood and bone. He tried to spit it all out, but he couldn't even part his lips. A hoarse scream could be heard deep within his throat, making Ivan smirk. Ah, how he loved to break people.

Kiku could feel his nose scrunching up, along with his cheek bones. He could feel them grazing his eyes, and, much to his horror, felt his eyes shifting. His tears were replaced by blood as he eyes were being squeezed right out of his head, and Ivan just kept adding more and more pressure. Kiku's previously handsome and actually pretty cute face was a bloody massacre of bone and muscle. Ivan almost felt pity.

Almost.

He couldn't tell if Kiku was dead or not yet, but the torture wasn't over yet. Not until his favorite part happened. Ah, there it was! He focused on Kiku's ears, where he saw what almost looked like pink, watery slime coming out of his ears. Yes, he must've been dead by now.

No one could survive their brain coming out of their ears. He finally stopped the screwing, releasing the pressure on the rock and lifting it back up. Kiku's head fell limply and destroyed to the side.

Well, that had relieved some stress.

**Next Torture: Fingernail Ripper**

**Tortured: ****Bella (Last name unknown)**

**Torturer: Ivan Braginski**

**Death of victim?: No**


	6. The Fingernail Ripper

**I was writing this at a wedding shower. I was soooo booooored. Dx**

**Yeah. I've got nothing to rant about today. –Hears cheering-**

**-_-;**

**WAIT! I GOT SOMETHING!**

**-Hears booing-**

**Oh, shut up.**

**Anyway, I was reading through my reviews and someone asked how fingernail ripping was worse than head crushing. The thing is, Russia doesn't give a crap about the **_**physical **_**pain. Russia cares about the **_**mental **_**pain. He's trying to make the victim go into hysteria, or brain overdrive. It's more of a show, and will most likely get a quick answer from whoever's being tortured.**

**So, yes, these tortures were ranked on the mental damage it does to you, not the physical damage. I hope that answered your question. :3**

**ON WITH DA CHAPTA!**

**The Fingernail Ripper**

**Tortured: Bella (Last name unknown)**

**Torturer: Ivan Braginski**

**Death of victim: No**

Ivan wanted revenge. He knew that Lovino had been lying about his sister Natalia being a witch. It must've been revenge for Ivan torturing and killing his brother. But Feliciano had done something wrong. Natalia had been completely innocent, for the most part.

He felt like he had to punish Lovino in some way. If this was the game that Lovino wanted to play, then Ivan would most certainly play. At first he had thought about making him go through the same torture as Natalia, but then got a thought. If he had to lose someone that was important to him, then so did Lovino. Ivan had kept an eye on the Italian for a long time, watching who he seemed to be attached to.

His eyes came upon a woman who Lovino seemed to blush a lot around. Bingo. Barely waiting for the next day to arrive, Ivan sent out some soldiers to capture the girl, who's name was Bella. Ivan accused her of witchcraft. Lovino, of course, immediately caught onto his plan, protesting as much as he could and trying to prove that Bella wasn't a witch, but Ivan would not be convinced.

And if Ivan wasn't convinced, neither would the rest of the people, leaving Lovino powerless in the situation.

Ivan led Bella down to his basement where all of his torture devices rested and waited for use. Plenty of them were still bloody. Bella looked frightened, and looked at Ivan, "You know I'm not a witch, don't you?" She asked.

Ivan smirked, "Nyet, this is for revenge purposes only." He said.

"Revenge? For what?" Bella asked, confused.

She barely even knew Ivan!

"Your little friend Lovino framed my sister for being a witch since I tortured his brother who was a war prisoner. If he wants to play the revenge game, I will play. You seem like someone special to him, so his punishment this time will be you getting tortured." Ivan explained.

Bella's eyes widened, but she got the message. She was silent after that. Once they were in the basement, Ivan closed and locked the door behind him. He walked Bella over to a small table where a little device sat. It was made from metal, and almost looked like a modern day finger nail clipper, but the clip and handle were much larger.

Bella gulped.

"This torture you will do to yourself," Ivan began to explain, "You place the tip if your nail in the clip. Then, by yourself, you push down on the handle. Your fingernail will be ripped right off, leaving torn tissue and muscle behind. You will do this to every nail on your hand, then repeat the process with the other hand. Resist, and I will do it for you, but you will be blindfolded." He said.

Bella squeaked. She had to do this to herself? Rip off her own fingernails? She shivered, but knew she didn't have a choice in the matter. Cold sweat ran down her forehead as she stuck her pinky nail into the contraption.

She lifted her hand in a fist, swallowing bile as she tried to prepare herself for the pain. Closing her eyes and looking away, she slammed her fist down onto the handle, searing pain tearing through her entire hand. She screeched, pulling her hand away as the red skin and muscle that her fingernail used to cover now bled freely down her hand. Ivan simply watched this, a large smile on his face that he covered with his hand. He pulled up a seat for himself, sitting down and leaning on his hand to make it easier to cover his psychotic smile.

Her hands trembling and small tears in her eyes, Bella moved on to her ring finger, positioning the nail again. She raised her arm again, banging it back down on the handle, another scream of pain escaping her lips as her nail was once again torn from her finger, fresh red blood running down her finger to her wrist and dripping onto the table. A few small tears were going down her cheeks now, but they were silent, much to Ivan's dismay. Oh, well. She still had eight fingers to go.

Her whole arm trembling now, she positioned it for a third time, barely able to add enough pressure this time for the nail to come off, but it did. On her fifth nail, which was her thumb, her hand was almost completely covered in the crimson red liquid. Bringing down her fist again, it hadn't been enough pressure for the nail to come off. It hung loosely from her thumb, and this sent Bella into complete hysteria. She shrieked loudly, the tears flowing like a stream down her face.

Now it was Ivan's time to step in. He stood up from his seat, quickly grabbing Bella and removing his scarf from his neck, only to wrap it around Bella's eyes, blinding her. This made her even more hysterical, struggling crazily against the larger Russian. He ripped the nail off of Bella's thumb with his own gloved hand, making Bella scream in the pain. The tears began to soak through the scarf, but Ivan payed no attention to it.

Taking her uninjured hand, he positioned her pinky nail in the contraption, ignoring her constant struggling. Once the finger was locked in place, Ivan raised his fist and crashed it down onto the handle, ripping her nail off. Bella continued to scream and plead as he continued the process, ignoring her cries of pure agony. Once he was finished ripping off her nails, he removed his scarf from her eyes, wrapping it right back around his own neck. Bella's hysterical cries had turned into quiet sobs as she held her fingers close to her chest, trying to ignore the burning pain.

She didn't dare touch the inflamed skin that her nails used to protect, though.

"Now, why don't you run home to Lovino and tell him what happened?" Ivan asked with a large grin plastered onto his lips, unlocking and opening the door.

Before he could even say 'Do svidaniya' (Goodbye in Russian), Bella bolted out of the basement and out of that nightmare of a house, getting a few looks from the servants around the home.

**Next Torture: The Rack**

**Tortured: Arthur Kirkland**

**Torturer: Ivan Braginski**

**Death of victim?: Um…yeah. –Cringes-**


	7. The Rack

**Sorry I didn't upload this yesterday. I was feeling way too lazy to write anything. XD!**

**I need something to rant about…um…um…**

**I got nothing.**

**WAIT!**

**I had no idea there were so many England fangirls. I'm new to the Hetalia fandom. XD**

**So, judging by my reviews, I do not think it is a good idea to kill England. So I changed my plans for him.**

**But I believe death would be the more suitable fate for this torture…*Shiver***

**Also, I am aware that I seem to be scaring a lot of people. I actually didn't think this story would become so popular, nor did I think that my horror skills were very good. I'm sorry if I make you wet your bed.**

**In a review, someone gave their opinion on how they think this story should end. I originally wasn't planning on doing it, but I really liked the idea, so I went with it.**

**THANK YOU TO ALL MY REVIEWERS AND ALERTERS AND STUFF! I LOVES YOU!**

**THIS IS IMPORTANT. AFTER THIS CHAPTER, THE RATING WILL BE CHANGED TO M DUE TO VERY EROTIC TORTURES IN LATER CHAPTERS.**

**The Rack**

**Tortured: Arthur Kirkland**

**Torturer: Ivan Braginski**

**Death of victim?: No**

Ivan nearly burst into laughter he saw the struggling Brit being dragged to him by his good 'ol Russian soldiers. The Brit was clearly angry, struggling and kicking and squirming like a mad man to try to get out of their grip. Ivan could've sat there and watched all day, but of course, business was business.

"What is he doing here?" Ivan asked, trying not to grin.

One of the soldiers answered him, "We found this British man spying on our military base." He said.

Ivan rolled his eyes, "Idiots will be idiots." He said in a sigh.

This just pissed the English man off even more, "I am not the idiot! You're the bloody idiot!"

"And me being an idiot is how you got captured, da?"

"... Wanker."

Ivan chuckled softly. He was a good source of entertainment. Ivan almost felt bad about having to torture him.

"What's your name?" He asked.

"Arthur Kirkland." Arthur spat bitterly.

"Watch your tone around me, Arthur." Ivan warned.

Arthur just scowled.

Ivan sighed, "Come with me to the basement. You need your punishment." He smirked.

Arthur shuddered, but was pushed along by the soldiers into the room that smelled horribly of blood. Of all the torture devices set up around the room, Arthur didn't want to know what he was going to be subjected to.

"Strip from your shirt and your boots." Ivan ordered, turning to Arthur.

Arthur raised an eyebrow, but obeyed, taking off the clothing that covered his upper body, leaving his chest, stomach, and back completely exposed. Then he flicked his boots from his feet, not liking how cold the floor was, but that was the least of his problems at the moment. Ivan walked over to a long, wooden table. It didn't have any blood on it, much to Arthur's relief. It was either new, or not all too painful.

Then again, you don't have to bleed to be in pain. Arthur knew that from experience.

"Lie down." Ivan ordered.

Arthur gave a small, shaky nod, not wanting to look scared. He climbed onto the wooden table. This thing was splinter heaven. He gave a small, disapproving growl as he lay on his back, staring up at the grey ceiling. He curled and straightened his toes a few times, along with clenching his hands into a fist and then straightening them again multiple times.

It helped to relieve some stress. Ivan put a finger on his chin, as if thinking of something.

"Let's make this more fun," He grinned, "Sit up."

"But you just told me to-"

"SIT UP."

With a small yelp at the sudden change of his tone, Arthur immediately sat up.

Ivan went back to smiling sweetly, "Good boy!" He praised, making Arthur roll his eyes.

Ivan opened a small chest, looking for something. Judging by the clanging of metal and other things, Arthur doubted that there was anything good in there. When Ivan rose again, he held up something that made Arthur's heart stop dead.

Ivan was holding a long row of spikes.

He walked back over to the wooden table, securing the spikes to right where Arthur's back had been moments before.

"Lie down." He ordered again.

Arthur made a face, "Are you kidding me? I'm not lying down on spi-AAAAGH!" Before Arthur could finish protesting, Ivan pressed down on his bare chest, hard, sending him right onto the spikes, the thick needles penetrating the skin of his back.

Arthur's breath came out in short gasps as he tried to recover from the sudden pain and shock, small tears just barely forming in his eyes, but Arthur refused to let them fall. In his distraction from the pain, Ivan took Arthur's feet, chaining them in place on the board. He took the wrist on his right arm, lifting it above his head and binding it in rope, which was attached to what looked like a wheel. He repeated the action with the wrist on his left arm.

Arthur scowled at him, "Y-you damn...bloody...git!" He exclaimed through gritted teeth.

Ivan only laughed, a psychotic grin taking over his features. He grabbed a small lever, beginning to turn the wheel that held the rope. It pulled on Arthur's wrists, lifting them higher above his head. Arthur winced in pain, squeezing his eyes shut as searing pain began to rip through his shoulders. The cuffs dug into his ankles as he was pulled, causing small, ring like cuts to erupt around them.

Splinters and spikes continued to dig deeper and deeper into his back, blood slowly oozing out from the wounds and onto the table. The rope burned his wrists, and Arthur could already feel circulation getting cut off in his wrists and shoulders from how unnaturally far they were being stretched. Arthur tried to focus on anything but the pain. And it had worked, for a while.

Until he heard a sickening, loud pop from his left shoulder.

Pain ripped through his entire body like wild fire. Arthur's bloody back arched painfully off of the wooden table as a scream escaped his lips, just as his right shoulder popped as well. He could hear his shoulder blades popping right out of their sockets. He tried not to let himself relax again. If he did, the spikes would go right back into him.

He felt the warm blood dripping down his back and beginning to cover the waistband of his pants. He could already tell his ankles were bound to become infected. He even felt blood on his wrists from the rope. But Ivan just kept on stretching him, and eventually, slowly, Arthur was back on those god forsaken spikes.

Then he heard two simultaneous pops from his legs.

Another blood curdling scream echoed its way through the house. Arthur knew the pain wasn't over yet, but Arthur didn't know how long he would last. Sudden, horrifying images entered his mind, and panic began to rise in Arthur's chest. The tears could no longer be held back, and they began to slowly fall down his cheeks. Ivan took this as motivation.

After even more stretching, Arthur had lost track of time. It felt like hours since he had been placed on this table. He heard ripping sounds coming from his arms and legs. He could feel the muscle and bone tearing from within him.

This drove him into hysteria.

He began struggling madly with the energy and power he had left, the spikes repeatedly impaling and scratching his back, but he paid no head to the pain. He just wanted to get out of this hell! The pain...he couldn't take it! It was driving him insane!

He nearly let out a cry of relief when Ivan seemed to show pity, loosening the ropes and freeing his wrists and feet from their binds. He helped Arthur into a sitting position, removing the spikes from the table and looking at his bleeding back. There were small holes everywhere, some were larger than others. That was Arthur's fault for struggling so much.

He let Arthur lie down again, and the English man just began to sob. With his tear filled eyes, he looked at Ivan, who was still smiling. Had he ever stopped smiling?

The expression in his eyes seemed to ask, 'Why let me live?'

Ivan leaned down so that he was inches away from Arthur's ear. Smirking devilishly, he whispered quietly to him,

"You will wish I killed you soon enough, my little entertainment."

**Next torture: The Cradle **

**Tortured: Francis Bonnefoy**

**Torturer: Ivan Braginski**

**Death of victim?: No. But it is a good mental scarring…**

**IMPORTANT. AFTER THIS CHAPTER, THE RATING OF THIS STORY WILL TURN TO M DUE TO EROTIC TORTURES IN LATER CHAPTERS.**


	8. The Cradle

**Guys, bad news. Since I am doing a really bad job in math this year, my mom banned all of my computer privileges. I am typing this at school, so it's short. I will only be able to post on Wednesdays and Thursdays, and maybe if I'm lucky I can sneak on and quickly update. Thanks for understanding!**

A small, feminine shriek ripped its way to Ivan's ears. His head snapped up from his large amount of papers that currently covered his desk. He bolted out of the room, panic filling his bloodstream. He burst into the room that was the source of the shriek, staring in shock at what he saw. He saw Francis Bonnefoy on top of his older sister Yekaterina, who was shrieking and trying to push him off.

When the two of them heard the door burst open, the two blonde heads snapped in the direction of the bang. Francis looked completely panicked, his face paling as he saw how angry Ivan looked. Yekaterina had tears streaming down her cheeks.

"I-Ivan!" She called desperately.

Ivan immediately marched over, pure loathing glinting in his eyes as her roughly grabbed Francis by his hair, throwing him against the wall. He gave a small 'oof' of pain, wincing and falling right onto the floor. Ivan placed his foot on Francis' chest, pressing down.

"How dare you try to touch big sister in such horrible ways? I let her invite you to my home, and you try to rape her?" He demanded angrily.

Francis was shaking now, his blue eyes wide in pure fear at the tall figure of Ivan.

"M-mon amie-"

"DO NOT SPEAK. Keep your damned mouth shut, Francis Bonnefoy!" He lifted Francis up by his throat, shaking him violently, causing the man to gag, his head whipping back and forth.

Ivan turned to Yekaterina, "Are you alright?" He asked her worriedly.

She sat up, giving a small, shaky nod.

"I'm fine." She offered a tiny smile.

Ivan returned the smile for a moment before returning his glare at Francis.

"You are going to pay dearly for this, suka." Ivan hissed to him.

Without waiting for a response from Francis, he began to drag him downstairs and into the basement where his torture devices lay. He quickly tied Francis' hands behind his back, and Francis didn't dare struggle. He grabbed Francis by his shoulder, pushing him over to a three legged stool. On top of the stool was what looked like a small pyramid.

((I feel like a pervert now, by the way.))

Ivan grabbed Francis, stepping on his toes not at all gently and tearing off his shoes before harshly tugging down on the waistband of his pants, pulling them off with angered force. He moved on to his boxers, tearing them off as well and making sure to be nice and rough. He was going to make Francis feel a whole lot of pain. Leaving his vital region area completely exposed, Ivan took what looked like a belt and tied it around Francis' waist, hoisting two, almost bungee like cords onto the belt. Taking a metal rod, he put it on Francis' ankles and tied the rod in place, keeping Francis' legs spread far apart. Francis had a seriously bad feeling as to what was coming. Taking another rope that was attached to the two bungee cords on Francis' waist; Ivan tugged down, lifting Francis off of the ground. When he had gotten to the exact right angle, Francis just above the point of the pyramid, Ivan released the rope from his hands, and Francis dropped, the pyramid's point being driven right up Francis'…

"AAAAGH!"

A smirk of satisfaction spread across Ivan's lips as he saw blood beginning to drip from Francis' opening, falling right down the pyramid like a small river and puddling onto the floor. Francis arched his back painfully, gritting his teeth and squinting his eyes shut. Ivan once again hoisted him up above the pyramid, repeating his previous action. Another cry of pain was released from Francis' lips. This was his punishment. He completely deserved this. Ivan, being the bastard he was, decided to make it even more painful for Francis. He walked over, taking some weights and tying them to Francis' feet. The weights pushed the pyramid's tip even farther into Francis' hole, causing him to cry out in pain as tears began to stream down his cheeks. After repeating the process over and over again at least thirty times, Ivan stopped, releasing Francis from the torture. Francis fell onto the ground, sore and bleeding. Not to mention mentally scarred for the rest of his miserable life.

"Never touch my sister again, Francis. Is that clear?" He hissed. Francis nodded as quickly as he could without his head flying off. Ivan backed away from him, "Good. Now, GET. OUT. Kolkolkol…"

Francis limped as fast as he could out of that God forsaken house.


	9. The Saw

**A/N: I think my parents forgot about my punishment, which I am very happy about, but I'm still being careful. Besides, we're getting to the last chapter. I'm going to torture you guys and make it suspenseful. **

**Wow. I really have nothing to rant about today.**

**The Saw**

**Tortured: Yao Wang**

**Torturer: Ivan Braginski**

**Death of victim?: Yes**

Ivan stared out the window longingly, thinking about his precious little Yao-Yao. He was so cute and nice and friendly… If only Yao returned the feelings Ivan had for him. Well, maybe he did. Ivan never asked. They just had friendly conversations every now and then, but that was enough for Ivan, as long as he was able to see his adorable little face.

But Ivan's feelings changed in the blink of an eye.

Ivan had been going on a small walk to clear his mind of a few people who had been planning to revolt against him. He had taken care of most of them, but the numbers were growing, and Ivan was beginning to grow worried. Well, this was nothing he couldn't handle. He'd probably be able to stop the revolution before it grew too large.

As he turned a corner, he blinked as he saw little Yao. He smiled a friendly smile, ready to call out a greeting to him, but stopped himself. Yao was talking to someone else. As Ivan looked closer, he saw that Yao's cheeks were a light pink. Ivan's stomach twisted with emotion. Why would he be blushing?

Just moments later, Ivan's cold heart froze in his chest. The man Yao was talking to leaned down and kissed him deeply, right on the lips. And what was even worse, Yao kissed back, wrapping his slim arms around the other's neck.

Ivan was too stunned-no, too angry-to react to what he had just seen. Heat boiled deep within his gut until he felt like it would overflow. He felt a scowl replace his previous smile, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes narrowed in anger. Yao was his! Yao belonged to him, and only him!

It looked like Ivan would have to give Yao a lesson on who he belonged to.

Later that evening, Ivan headed out of his home. He knew where Yao lived by heart, even though he had visited the house only once when it was raining too hard to go home by himself. He approached the Chinese man's door, tapping the backs of his knuckles against the wood. It opened a few moments later, revealing Yao.

"Ivan, aru?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. Ivan hadn't announced he was coming over… Maybe it was something urgent?

Ivan gave a friendly smile, "Privyet, Yao! I have to ask a favor of you. You will come back to my place and help me with it, da?" He asked, trying not to smirk. Yao blinked.

"Oh, of course, aru! May I ask what happened, aru?" He asked curiously.

"It is a surprise gift for a friend of mine, but I'm having trouble getting it together," Ivan explained. Okay, it was a bit of a lie. But he doubted Yao would come willingly if Ivan explained the real situation. Yao nodded, stepping outside and closing the door behind him. Ivan wrapped an arm around Yao's shoulder, causing the shorter to blush slightly. But Yao didn't like Ivan in that way. In fact, he was quite uncomfortable with being so close to the Russian, but decided it'd be best not to voice his opinion out loud.

Once they reached Ivan's home, he began to lead them down a flight of stairs. Yao began to grow uneasy, especially since there was a horrible smell clinging to his nose. What was that? Raw egg?

_No,_ Yao thought as sudden horror struck him, _that's blood!_

His face turned into an expression of panic, and Ivan noticed, "Yao, what's wrong?" He asked, blinking innocently. Yao was much too afraid to answer, but as soon as they reached the door, he began struggling. He tried to tear himself away from Ivan's grip, but he kept a strong hold on him, "Silly Yao-Yao, I have to teach you a lesson for loving someone other than me, da?" He giggled, opening the door.

Yao wanted to throw up right then and there. There were torture devices littered everywhere. Dried blood caked the walls and the floor. Even the roof was bloodstained. Rats scurried around the stone tiles and spiders inhabited the walls. God only knew how long it had been since this room experienced spring cleaning.

A small scream escaped Yao's lips as he once again tried to struggle. Ivan threw him down onto the floor, climbing on top of him and caging him with his arms, smirking wickedly. The childish innocence from before was gone, left with only insanity and bloodlust.

"G-get off, aru!" Yao cried, but was only answered with a forceful kiss to the lips. Yao swore he tasted blood.

Ivan grabbed his wrists in a deathly tight grip, first pinning them around Yao's head, which were then shoved behind his back in a painful way, causing Yao to wince and whimper into Ivan's mouth. Using one hand to keep Yao's hands in place, Ivan unwrapped his scarf with the other hand, using it to bind Yao's wrists in place. He broke the kiss, his old grin returning, leaving Yao shivering and scared on he ground. Ivan stood up, but Yao didn't dare try to run away. Ivan got a few supplies, and Yao saw two wooden rods, a long rope, and much to Yao's horror, a two-manned hand saw. Ivan grabbed Yao's right foot, tying it onto the first wooden rod, then repeating the action with his left foot. Using the rods, he dragged Yao on his back to a high post, Yao wincing continuously as his hands were dragged on the hard floor. Ivan lifted the two wooden rods, Yao's feet going with them, and soon he was hanging upside-down, his legs spread apart. Yao immediately felt blood rushing to his head, his face flushing red from the sudden blood flow. He barely even noticed or cared about his clothing being cut away by Ivan with a small hand knife. Fear was eating away at Yao like acid eats away at the floor in those movies. Ivan walked over to the door, leaving Yao literally hanging around, and called up to the rest of the house.

"Toris! I need some assistance down here!" He called. Almost immediately, footsteps were heard from upstairs, and the nervous Lithuanian peeked his head in the doorway, his eyes widening at the sight of Yao. He gulped as he saw the hand saw, immediately knowing what was going to happen. Ivan walked back over to Yao, Toris following behind him. Ivan took one end of the saw, and Toris took the other. Yao's eyes widened in pure fear, tears forming.

"I-Ivan, aru! N-no, please! Whatever I did, I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" He cried, trying to struggle, but Ivan paid no attention.

"I'm so sorry…" Toris said in a quiet voice to Yao, looking away.

Ivan positioned the saw right between Yao's legs, and pushed down with just enough force to break sensitive skin. Yao cried out in pain as blood immediately began to flow from the wound. Toris shivered, not daring to look as he followed the saw's movements, digging deeper into Yao's body.

Yao didn't dare look either as he saw blood running down his skin and stomach, going up to his chin and leaking into his mouth and nose, choking him and dribbling onto the floor. He cracked an eye open, immediately screaming again as he saw his intestines being dragged out with the saw's movements. He wanted to just die already, but the extra blood and oxygen flowing to his head forced him to keep consciousness. Tears that were barely noticeable due to the blood streamed down his cheeks, mixing with the blood that was collecting into a large puddle on the floor. He felt the saw pierce his stomach next, unspeakable pain and a burning feeling flowing throughout his entire body. His screaming went hoarse as his blood began leaking directly from his mouth, dribbling onto his hair which began to slip from its ponytail. As soon as he lungs were punctured, Yao's breath came out short and he turned into a coughing and hacking wreck. Only moments later did he fall motionless, Ivan ceasing his attack with the saw as soon as he realized it. Toris was shaking uncontrollably and ran upstairs right after to wash the blood off of himself, trying not the throw up.

As soon as he was finished, he walked over to the house phone, picking it up and dialing a familiar number.

"Hello? Feliks? I'm in the revolution."

**That was… mentally scarring to type.**

**Next: Blood Bath**

**Tortured: Surprise**

**Torturer: Surprise**

**Death of victim?: Yes**


	10. Blood Bath

**Finally! The last chapter!**

**I'm sorry this took so long; I had major writer's block. I am prepared with my sword and shield for the incoming flames of what you're about to find out…**

**Poland and Lithuania are in fact tortured in this chapter.**

**BRING ON THE FLA-AAAAAAGH! –Runs- **

**Torture: Blood Bath**

**Torturer: Ivan Braginski**

**Tortured: Feliks Lukasiewicz Toris Laurinaitis (It takes forever to spell those names! Dx)**

**Death of victims?: Yes and no.**

The revolution, to say in the least, did not go as planned. Nothing gets past Ivan in his home, especially if you're stuck in it. It hadn't taken long for him to find the documents that Toris had cleverly hidden in his pillow case, the papers filled with details on where they would meet to discuss and when they would make their move. And Ivan, of course, had not been happy. Only in a matter of days did his soldiers find the mastermind of the plan, Feliks, and bring the blond to him.

"I knew you were stupid, little Feliks," Ivan said, smirking cruelly as he approached the hand cuffed boy, "but never did I expect you to do something as dumb as this, and drag your best friend, my favorite little servant into it." He chuckled softly, before scowling, "Bad move."

He grabbed the polish man by his hair before he could protest, dragging him down those horrible stairs that so many had walked down before. But Feliks would refuse to scream or cry. He had to be stronger. He let out a breath, knowing what was going to come was going to probably be horrible and he wouldn't get out alive.

Best day ever, right?

He roughly shoved Feliks into the room, and he stumbled onto a flat, wooden table. He turned around to face Ivan, glaring, but Ivan ignored him, heaving him onto the table, laying him flat on his back. He untied his wrists, just to pin them at his sides and tie them again to the table.

"I'm surprised you aren't struggling, little Feliks." Ivan hummed.

"Why should I? Whatever you're, like, planning to do, I bet it totally won't hurt a bit!" Feliks exclaimed, sticking his tongue out at the Russian and making a face.

Ivan rolled his eyes, "So childish." He said. He walked over to a small table where a bunch of metal contraptions lay. He picked up a thin, extremely sharp knife, walking back over to the table. Feliks gulped. Okay, made this would hurt... Just a little bit...

Ivan roughly undid the buttons on Feliks' shirt, throwing it open to reveal his chest. Feliks' face was too pale at the moment from fear for him to blush. Ivan brought the small knife to Feliks' cheek, lightly grazing it down, "Shame. You have such a handsome face, too. Tragedy that it's going to waste." He said as blood trailed down the knife. Feliks winced at the sting of the blade, but he was sure this experience was going to become a lot more painful soon. Ivan brought the knife down right between Feliks' collarbone, pressing down until he broke skin. Feliks winced, sucking in a gasp. He wouldn't scream, he wouldn't scream!

Ivan dragged the knife down the middle of his body, digging the knife deeper and deeper into him as he went. Feliks' eyes went wide, tears pricking at the corners, a silent scream escaping his lips. He didn't dare look, staring at the ceiling and enduring the pain. The knife reached his stomach, and he let out a strangled sob. He was getting CUT IN HALF! And vertically, too! Thankfully, Ivan stopped before he could reach any vital regions.

"Is that all? Pathetic!" Feliks exclaimed, wincing. Okay, yeah, it hurt like hell, but he wasn't going to admit that.

Ivan only smirked, "I'm not even halfway done yet, Feliks!" He exclaimed, gently putting the knife down. He walked back over to Feliks, taking a large container and putting it next to him on the floor, "Now the torture really begins."

Using his hands, he opened the gash widely, causing Feliks cry out in pain as his insides were revealed to Ivan.

"Bones. So bothersome in this process." Ivan said, frowning. He began to tear away at the muscle and flesh just under the skin in Feliks' body, lazily dumping it into the container next to him. Feliks cried out hysterically, the pain indescribable. Tears swam down his face as he tried in vain to struggle. The pain completely paralyzed him, and he realized with a sickening horror that he was at Ivan's mercy, if you could really call it that. Once Ivan was done peeling away at the muscle, Feliks was a shaking, trembling mess. He couldn't even speak. He already knew he was going to die in a horribly painful way, and just wished death would give him it's sweet embrace now. He just hoped Toris hadn't been figured out.

Another scream escaped Feliks' lips as he heard a sudden snap. He forced himself to look at what the hell Ivan was doing, and immediately regretted it. That stupid psychotic Russian was using some kind of tool to break the bones around his ribs.

Once that was over with, Ivan lazily tossed the bones onto another table. They'd be useless for the blood bath. Taking the knife again, Ivan cut one of the passage ways leading from the throat to the lungs. Then he pulled that lung out of Feliks' body.

Feliks made inhuman noises, fighting to get a good air supply as he began to choke up crimson red blood. It began to spill out his nose as well.

"You should feel lucky, Feliks. I'm sparing you much more pain by cutting off your air supply now." Ivan said, smiling sweetly despite the blood that covered him. He cut the next tube, removing Feliks' other lung. His green eyes widened. It was impossible to get air. This was it. He was going to be dead in a matter of moments. God, whatever Ivan was putting him through, don't let Liet go through the same thing!

Once he was motionless, staring up at the ceiling in pure horror, Ivan removed the rest of his organs, smiling sweetly as if he was just preparing a dinner. Every organ he removed was put in the container, while bones were just thrown to the side. He did this until Feliks had been completely emptied out, like an animal getting ready to be stuffed. Ivan actually considered stuffing Feliks, but decided against it. He opened the Polish man's mouth, grabbing his motionless, bloody tongue and roughly pulling out the muscle, throwing it into the container as well. He used a knife to gouge out his eyes. He was too lazy to cut his head open and get his brain. The skull was a pain to break, and the brain didn't have as much blood, anyway. Mostly water.

Ivan leaned down, picking up the gory container and placing it on another table. He turned all the lights in the room on.

Sadly, Feliks' wish had not been granted. Toris, in fact, had been caught before Feliks had. But Ivan had something very special planned for his favorite of the three brothers, who were unaware of what was going on. But they probably knew now, judging by the volume of Feliks' screaming.

Toris lay on a table, in the same position as Feliks had been, except not one injury was on Toris. He was unconscious, completely unaware of the horrifying event that had just taken place.

Ivan rummaged around in the container, finding the certain muscle he was looking for. Ah, there it was! Feliks' heart. He picked it up, walking over to Toris and lightly placing it on the Lithuanian's chest. Ivan found it quite adorable, actually.

The sudden warmth from the fresh blood on his chest made Toris wake up, blinking confusedly. At first, he saw Ivan's bloody figure, smiling sweetly at him. Then his eyes drifting down, his green eyes landing on the heart...

He screamed in horror, letting out a dreaded sob. What the hell was going on? Whose heart was that? He looked to his side, seeing the corpse of Feliks.

Dear sweet lord of God in Heaven.

"FELIKS!" Toris cried hysterically, sobbing uncontrollably, struggling to try and get off of the damned table, "NO! WHY, FELIKS, WHY?" He turned to glare at Ivan, "YOU SICK BASTARD! YOU HORRIBLE MACHINE OF MISERY!" He began to yell a dictionary of profanities in his Lithuanian language.

Ivan just kept smiling, "I'd watch your mouth if I were you, Toris. You never know what I might put in it." He chuckled, taking a funnel. Taking a large, blunt looking tool, Ivan began to mash Feliks' different organs together, taking the heart off of Toris' chest and throwing it back into the container. Toris could only watch in horror as Feliks' insides were turned into bloody pulp.

Ivan picked up the funnel, walking towards Toris.

"What the hell are you doing?" Toris demanded, but he thought he already knew. He closed his mouth shut tightly, shaking his head. Ivan pinched his nose, and as soon as Toris gasped for air, Ivan shoved the funnel in, holding it in his mouth as Toris tried to spit it out. Toris' eyes became fresh with new tears, "D-d-don't... I-Ivan, p-please don't..." He begged weakly around the funnel, his entire body trembling.

Ivan ignored him, "Should've watched your mouth, da?"

Using a cup, he scooped up some of the bloody red mess from the container. Most of it was just blood, mixed with some chunks of meat and muscle here and there. He poured it into the funnel, the 'food' going right into Toris' mouth. Toris' eyes widened as he desperately tried to spit it out, not allowing himself to swallow as the horrible bloody taste filled his mouth. Ivan once again pinched his nose, forcing him to swallow if he had any hopes of getting air. Toris couldn't believe he was cannibalizing Feliks, even if he was unwilling. Feliks, who he had spent his entire life with. Now he was dead, and Toris was eating him. This was not the fate he had expected.

Ivan kept force feeding Toris through the funnel until at least half of the large container was gone. He released his nose, removing the bloody container. Toris gasped for air, choking and coughing. Oh God, he was going to throw up!

Ivan put a hand over Toris' bloody lips, "Ah ah ah, don't throw up, or I'll just give you more." He smiled sweetly, removing his hand. Toris forced himself to swallow anything that came up, which was harder than swallowing it the first time. He shook uncontrollably from the traumatizing experience.

"K-k-kill me now..." Toris said softly, shaking. Ivan looked at him.

"Nyet. I would never kill my favorite of the brothers." He smiled.

"N-NO! KILL ME, JUST KILL ME!" Toris cried hysterically, once again struggling.

Ivan just turned off the lights, leaving the room, leaving the screaming Lithuanian alone in the darkness with nothing to keep him company except for Feliks' body.

**And that's it! Thank ya for reading! If you go to my profile, there's a poll on which country should torture the others next, so if you want, go to my profile and take the poll! The quicker you vote, the quicker the next story will be out.**


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